That’s why today we took the courage to complete our communal poem. Like two obstetrists, we cut its umbilical cord, slapped its bottom and enjoyed the first cries of this newborn poem. We even gave it a name.
Well, now it’s time to sniff a little, brush away a furtive tear, and wave goodbye our first-born. But please, don’t be too concerned. We promise to start the next round very soon. This feature’s too much fun to simply let it die!
Stay tuned!
One Man Show
What if I said sorry for saying sorry all the time?
Or should I just give you a baby porcupine?
Alas, it will be one and the same outcome
Saying sorry results with quills in your bum
From now on I will change my approach
And make the pine and quill my coach
My steel derriere, my impenetrable armour
With rocketship flair, I will rise as a charmer
No more sorry for saying sorry all the time
Only a real man’s kneeling pantomime!
“What? Cooperative staff? What do you mean?” Tati blinked in confusion.
“Stuff you can interact with. Like a knob or Rubik’s Cube.”
“Hmm… knob. I sense a trick.” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Do you want to beep my nose again?”
“Could I?” Tony’s mouth broke into a sly grin. “Although that’s more like a button really, not a knob.”
Tati wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Tony, I won’t fall for this shit again. You and your speculative staff!”
Now Tony blinked. “Well, I’ve never heard it called that before…”
“What? These were your words! You asked me if I like copulative staff only a moment ago. I’m not crazy. I know what I heard!”
“Actually, I was referring to ‘CYOA’ books. My knob… erm… knobs in general… erm… staffs… Shit. Let’s just say Rubik’s Cubes.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Look, I was just using these as examples of things that could be interacted with…”
Tati stared at him. He slumped his shoulders and said sheepishly to himself, “Damn. I’ve become a dirty old man, haven’t I? I always promised myself that wouldn’t happen.”
“C’mon you! Old ass!”
Tony blinked again. “Hey, hey, hey! No need to get insulting!”
“‘CYOA’ books! Doesn’t this mean ‘C’mon you! Old ass!’ books?”
“No, it really doesn’t. Please, Tati, do save me from your endless guessing, okay? Let me put you out of your misery.”
“Well, you can try. But, please, without your silly euphemisms like ‘knobs’. I’m a big girl. You can say ‘interactive dick’ if what you mean is ‘interactive dick’.”
“Good lord. Now you’ve got me blushing…” And he really was!
“Well, out with it!” She tapped her foot on the tiled floor, impatient.
“Erm… yes. ‘CYOA’ means ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’.”
“With dicks?”
“NO! Not with dicks! What’s wrong with you? This isn’t an adult version of ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey’ y’know!”
“Such a pity. Okay, so what is it?”
“It was a series of children’s books that began in the seventies. Each story was written from a second-person point of view, and each section of the story would end with a list of choices for how it could progress.” Tony was in full professorial mode now. He was so cute when he got like this. “You could be a pirate, an astronaut, or even an investment banker. Actually, I don’t think there ever was one with an investment banker in it…”
“Tony, stop your verbal flood. Couldn’t you have said just one word at the start?”
“Actually, that’d be in the list of choices. ‘If you decide to listen to Tony’s lengthy, long-winded explanation, thus running the risk of slipping into a coma, turn to page 17. If you decide to convince him to use fewer words, thus saving yourself valuable drinking time, turn to page 21. If you decide to slap him in the face with a wet fish, turn to page 34.’”
“WOW! And what will happen if I jump right to page 45?”
Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.
We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*
If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via admin@unbolt.me. We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.
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